


Runner's High

by monsieurbanjo



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: ... and for jacob seed in short shorts, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, non-cult AU, staci pratt leaks a lot of pre-cum and i heard that from ubisoft themselves, this started as a crack au that i took a lil too seriously cause it's got potential for cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 14:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsieurbanjo/pseuds/monsieurbanjo
Summary: It’s Hope County’s first Police Run and Deputy Pratt’s run is more of a jog, at this point.i.e, a noncult verse where staci sees jacob only while volunteering for marathons / runs with the HCPD.jacob is a merciless flirt and staci is pining hard.





	Runner's High

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to the jacob/staci discord for inspiring this ... haven't flexed my writing bones in a while, hope y'all enjoy!

“You know what they say about police officers.” A familiar voice, one he only vaguely recalls the name to, beckons a glance over his shoulder. He has time to steel his expression, brace himself for whatever remark will come tumbling from the ginger’s lips. “Ol’ boys in blue, couldn’t make it through basic so they’re stuck at home,” Jacob smirks, extending a hand to flick his fingers against the HCPD logo on the back of Staci’s shirt, “playin’ games at the races.”

Staci hates him. Should really tell him to fuck off, but they both know he won’t. It’s a game of cat and mouse, at this point. Batting at each other, seeing which of them will strike, which will run.

“It’s a charity event.” Staci hates, even more, how he turns to face him. Feeling as if he’s offering not only his attention with the action, but _himself._ He fiddles with the lid to his water bottle, tightening it, loosening it. Gives him something for his hands to do, expel some energy. “For the pediatric hospital.”

“Very honorable.”

The corner of Jacob’s lips peel back into some semblance of a smile, “just try to keep up, Peaches.” He shifts his gaze, looking Staci over in a way that makes him hyper aware of his training shorts, the morning breeze cool against his skin. Forces him to acknowledge the way they cling to his legs, his ass -- hopes he can keep up, just to give Jacob a glimpse at it.

The veteran gives a small grunt of acknowledgement -- or is that appreciation? -- lifting his gaze to meet Staci’s, smile shifting easily into a smirk. His eyes seem darker, now. Headier. 

“I’ll even go slow for you.”

\--

It’s Hope County’s first Police Run and Deputy Pratt’s run is more of a jog, at this point.

It’s intentional.

Conserve energy. Save it for a burst of speed at the end, minutes before the finish line.

The perfect plan to usurp Jacob’s place in the race. He’s further up on the trail, but Staci can make him out easily among the thinning crowd of people between them.

“This is a family friendly event, you know.”

He’s rolling his eyes before Joey’s even finished.

“You’ve been staring at his ass for the last fifteen minutes. I know you can run faster than that.”

“I’m not staring, Jo.” He pauses. Considers for a moment. “Not at his ass, at least.”

Which, well, is partially true. He’s been eyeing him all over, really -- from his powerful arms, to those thighs, his ass … toned muscle shifting beneath his black shorts and cotton grey top.

“It’s called keeping an eye on the competition.”

“It’s called: if your ass trips then I’m taking a photo and posting it to the HCPD Facebook page.”

“Hah.”

\-- 

He does trip, actually.

Over a stray root that has him falling face first, hands scraping against the dry dirt.

But it _wasn’t_ because he was too busy ogling the ass of a particular ginger, no, so he still considers it a win over Joey, who had left him minutes ago when challenged to a race by a civilian.

He’d _actually_ been doing police work. 

The Sheriff would be proud.

See, when everyone else turned left at the small intersection of trails, Jacob turned _right._ And what kind of Deputy would he be if he didn’t follow? Inspect what must be a case of cheating … a Deputy’s top priority. Of course. He had smirked to himself, already had a string of remarks to bat Jacob around with.

But instead, he’d fallen and eaten shit.

Staci shoves himself to his feet, dusts his hands off on his shirt as he searches the area for a familiar flash of red. His breathing isn’t as steady as he’d like for it to be and he isn’t sure if it’s due to nerves or the workout he’d gotten in the last half hour or so.

He can no longer hear the chatter of the races, the stomping of feet. Loosening the cap of his water bottle, he stops for a moment to catch his breath. Tries to redirect himself. The last thing he needs is Deputy Goes Missing and Dies in the Whitetails during Police Run on the headlines of every Hope County paper.

Christ, he wouldn’t be surprised if it reached Missoula.

His fingers ghost across his scalp, smoothing out any stray hairs. He had settled for an updo today, keeps the hair off his neck, and he’s considering untying it to redo it when a branch snaps.

There’s bears in the mountains.

That’s his first fear.

Wolves are his second.

He steps backwards, slowly, eyes scanning the line of trees.

It could have been a squirrel, he tells himself. A skunk, even.

That’s what he tells himself to even his breathing as he continues his slow trek backwards, down the trail he’d come up on. But then he bumps into something solid, something _warm_ that has him springing forward and away, turning and reaching for a holstered gun, taser, anything that isn’t _there_ in his training shorts.

Ironically, the teeth are the first thing his eyes notice.

He thinks of wolves, again.

“Awful jumpy for a Deputy.” Jacob steps forward. “Guilty conscience, there?”

Shit. Staci should have known better than to follow so closely behind Jacob; the man’s ex-military, he knows that much. Probably would have noticed him coming a mile away.

“Says the guy taking a back road. Does the army teach all of it’s soldiers to cheat?”

“Wasn’t cheatin’.” He takes another step and he’s in Staci’s space now, so close the deputy can feel the heat radiating off of him. The smell of his deodorant. “Just wanted to see if you’d follow.”

Jacob’s quiet, waits for Staci to make a move. Step away. Stand down.

He doesn’t.

So he drags the knuckles of one hand across Staci’s abdomen, the bit of exposed skin where his shirt had rucked up during the fall. “And follow you did. Now what’s that mean, hm? Gonna fill me in, Peaches?”

God.

Fuck.

There’s two ways Staci can take this. Play ignorant, sprint past him and will whatever arousal is currently pooling in his belly _away._ Or take whatever Jacob’s getting at, even if it’d mean playing into his hand. Giving in.

Jacob’s fingers move lower, caressing just at the line of his waistband, collecting sweat as they ghost along his flushed skin. “What’s it gonna be.”

He knows he’s done for when his dick twitches.

Doesn’t want to give Jacob the satisfaction of hearing him say it, though. Instead, he takes a step closer, curls his hand around the man’s bicep, his opposite hand rucking his own shirt up to expose more of himself to Jacob.

What in the Hell is he doing.

Jacob seems to like it, whatever it is. Chuckles and dips his head, mouth near Staci’s ear, “good boy.” It makes Staci’s breath catch, more than jogging the last five miles has. He feels a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face.

Jacob’s hands move higher, touching the now exposed skin of Staci’s chest, thumb brushing over one of his nipples. His whole body is clammy with sweat and he can feel a bead dripping down the side of his face, but Jacob doesn’t seem to mind. Keeps mapping out the warmth of his skin with his fingers, palm, knuckles, cascades his hand down his chest and around, cupping the small of his back.

“Must be awful desperate.”

The words in his ear -- coupled with the glide of Jacob’s hands as they move lower, lower, down to cup his ass -- make him whine. The noise is low in his throat, an affirmative.

“Followin’ a man you barely know into the woods … and don’t go givin’ me any more of that bullshit excuse, we both know what you’re here for …”

_Fuck,_ he talks too much. Confidence bordering on arrogance, Staci wishes he could have been so forward. Should have known from the mud run a month back, when Jacob had peeled his shirt off and tossed it to Staci in exchange for a run-sponsored t-shirt. The Deputy was sure he’d seen him flex, should have followed him to his car. Pushed him against the side of it and tugged him into a bruising kiss.

“Just get on with it,” he hisses. Doesn’t want the Sheriff to come looking for him.

“Poor Deputy,” he tuts, lips peeling back into a smirk, “got no one to look after you, huh? Mm, guessin’ it’s been a while since you’ve seen another man’s cock. Small town’s awful _rough,_ I know.” He gives his ass a final squeeze, dips his fingers into the crack of his shorts and Staci can feel how thick those fucking fingers are. Wonders how many he could take. “But I’ll take real good care of you, baby.”

Staci’s breath hitches, feels Jacob’s own as it huffs against his ear. He turns his head and wishes he wasn’t as delirious as he feels right now, foggy headed and in the middle of the forest -- the runner’s trail just minutes from them. HCPD logo printed on either side of his shirt, like a neon sign. Highlighting his own depravity to any runners who might stumble down the wrong path, seeking a shortcut.

He can feel the press of Jacob’s dick against his thigh. Heavy. Hot. Has imagined it so many fucking times before now that he almost wants to laugh, can’t quite believe this is happening. Had jerked off the night before to the thought of Jacob catching him alone, after the race, tugging his shorts down just enough to fuck into him. Ass hanging out in the middle of the forest. Wonders, deliriously, if that’s what will happen here.

But Jacob’s fingers leave his ass. Move to his cock, instead, stroking the length of it through his shorts. The first touch of Jacob’s palm against the outline of his dick leaves him breathless, has him squeezing Jacob’s bicep. He can feel how wet he is through his shorts, the sensation of slick precum gliding against his cock and the cotton of his briefs shoving a shameful noise from his lips. He hopes it won’t stain, that it’s not enough to show through.

“You’re soaking your shorts, Deputy,” He pulls down the front of Staci’s waistband, just enough to expose the head of his cock to the cool morning air. Says it like he’s scolding him, this small growl with a hint of interest. “Really been that long?”

“If you keep talking, Jacob, I’m going to leave.”

“No you won’t.” He says it like a command. An order. Reminds Staci of who he’s dealing with, here. A military veteran, a fucking stranger he barely knows.

He doesn’t have to look down to know that his dick leaks some more, at that. Precum dripping onto the grass, Jacob’s hand. Hopes it doesn’t hit his shoes.

His shorts are pulled down further, dick bobbing free, the head of it already slick with pre-cum. Jacob turns his head to look at it. Grunts, low in his throat. “Pretty little thing.” Wraps a hand around it and gives it a long, slow stroke.

_Little,_ Staci huffs, staring down to watch the motion of Jacob’s hand moving up his dick, thumb gliding over the head in a way that makes Staci groan, eyelids heavy.

He finally lifts his head, seeking out those icy blue eyes only to find that they’re already on him. Studying him. Looks as if he might devour Staci, consume him whole. The intensity of it has his fingers pressing into Jacob’s skin, thinks it might bruise if he’s not careful.

Doesn’t want to be careful.

Wants to give Jacob something to remember him by.

Doesn’t want to be the only one thinking of this for weeks to come.

Jacob’s gaze drifts down to his lips, it’s a glance, really, but that’s all the permission Staci needs to lean forward, dip his head and catch Jacob’s own in a kiss. The press of their lips coincides with Jacob’s fingers squeezing just so around the base of his dick. Moving higher to swipe along the head, collect precum before gliding back down to the base.

and God, Staci can’t help but buck his hips into that fist.

It’s pitiful how quickly he cums, with Jacob’s hand pumping him and chapped lips moving against his own. He pulls away from the kiss just enough to grunt Jacob’s name, fingers grabbing at the back of Jacob’s shirt, clutching handfuls.

“That’s it,” the words are spoken against his lips. Breath hot, words low, accent thicker than it was just mere minutes ago. Heady with arousal, “that’s it, peaches.”

Jacob strokes him through his orgasm, cum dribbling down his wrist. Gives him no time to recover before he’s shoving Staci to his knees, sucking a cum stained finger into his mouth. The sight makes Staci’s balls tighten. He wonders if he could go for another round. Knows that he can’t and settles, instead, at committing the image to memory.

“Don’t worry,” Jacob tells him when he catches Staci staring, other hand moving down to grab himself through his shorts. “You’ll get a taste of somethin’, know you’ve been hungry,” and _oh,_ okay.

He swears the way his mouth opens a bit in anticipation is subconscious. It’s involuntary, the way his jaw goes slack at the suggestion. Jacob rubs himself through his pants, once, twice, eying Staci carefully as he does.

Staci’s cheeks flush, “I won’t beg, just fuckin’ pull it out,” he says. Hates that he would, even after he’s cum, hates that he would beg for the weight of Jacob’s cock in his mouth, against his tongue.

Jacob chuckles. “Don’t need to. Already know what you want, Peaches. Been written all over your face since we met.” Still, he pulls himself free. Head of his cock flushed, looking bigger than it had in all the lingering glances Staci had stolen from previous races, runs in loose sweatpants or shorts.

He licks his lips, scoots closer to him on his knees -- doesn’t consider how dirty they’ll be after, signs of _this_ written all over him. Doesn’t care, because Jacob’s pressing the head of his cock to Staci’s lips. The Deputy parts his lips, wonders if he can take all of him, kind of wants to sit here in the middle of the forest with his nose buried against Jacob’s pubes, his cock heavy on his tongue, down his throat.

“There we go.” He says, free hand pushing back the strands of hair from Staci’s face as he guides his dick between those lips. Presses the length of it against his tongue, watches Staci’s lips close around him.

Jacob moans, noise shifting into a _growl._ “Didn’t think you’d fall to your knees so quickly,” he says. Thrusts in once, twice, nearly makes Staci gag before he’s pulling back. String of saliva and precum connecting the head of his cock to Staci’s reddened lips. He smacks the head of it against Staci’s lips, smears the mess against them. “Don’t think you can handle all of me.”

Staci meets his eyes, hand coming up to grip the base of Jacob’s dick -- God, he wants to _try._

Had imagined this so many fucking times, even pressed a dildo past his lips, taken it as far as he could. Had shut his eyes, free hand down his pants and imagined the noises that cocky, self assured soldier he’d only ever seen at races would make, what he could reduce him to with just his mouth, alone. He was a full to think he could ever replicate the feeling of Jacob’s swollen dick against his tongue, the feeling of strong hands in his hair.

He leans forward, pressing his knees further into the dirt -- can feel a rock scraping against one of them but pays it no mind. Just focuses on taking Jacob back into his mouth, sticky lips closing around his dick as he takes him deeper. Tries taking a little more with each bob of his head, Jacob’s noises acting as encouragement for him to take _more._

Tries opening his throat, something he’s had girls do to him before, shit he’s read about online … techniques for oral sex, what men like … Tries taking Jacob deeper as he does so, but ends up gagging. Pulls off and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Jacob has the gall to chuckle.

“Slow ‘n’ Steady, peaches.” He cups the side of Staci’s face, “know you’re eager, it’s okay.” Pats him on the side of his face, goes to pat him again but Staci swats his hand away.

“Fuck off,” His voice is raw when he speaks so he clears his throat, cheeks flushed. Stares at Jacob’s dick and strokes it once, twice. Feels his hair coming loose from it’s tie.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to the head of his cock, instead. Mouths at it, a soft kiss with now swollen lips that leaves Jacob gasping more than any of the previous shit has.

He licks up the underside of it, feels it throb against his tongue when his eyes meet Jacob’s. Puts on a show of licking from the base to the tip, kissing the head. A sweet kiss, Staci’s lips shiny with precum. Jacob can’t help but groan, pulling Staci by the hair away from him.

Grabs himself again, slicking himself with his own precum and Staci’s spit. Still has Staci by the hair, pulling his head back so that he’s forced to look up at him.

He does that noise again, the noise that makes Staci’s stomach clench in arousal, this groan that develops into a growl as he pumps his own fist over his cock. It’s primal. Stirs something in Staci’s gut that makes him want to be pinned down against the dirt and taken.

“Might wanna shut your eyes,” and that’s the only warning he gives, hand twisting in Staci’s hair as he cums. Staci shuts his eyes just in time, even opens his mouth, sticks out his tongue .. Tries to make this _look_ good, even if he hadn’t been the best, the most experienced with this. Wants Jacob to think of him as early as _tonight,_ as late as _forever._

Cum streaks across his cheek, his lips, especially his tongue … He opens his eyes only when Jacob sighs, fingers loosening their grip and instead moving to stroke down the side of Staci’s face. Thumb away some cum from the high of his cheek.

“Awful pretty like this,” Jacob tells him, breathless -- has a stable enough mind, already, to tuck himself back into his pants. It’s only then that Staci does the same, now all too aware of his own dick left hanging loose from his shorts.

Suddenly, the rest of the world begins to fill itself in. He remembers where he is. What he’s supposed to be doing. Wonders how long he’s been like this, dirtying his knees and chasing an orgasm with a man he barely knows.

His face feels sticky.

“Should clean yourself up. Can’t finish the run lookin’ like that …” He’s smirking, smears another streak of cum across Staci’s cheek with a swipe of his thumb. “Much as I’d like you to.”

“Oh,” Staci frowns. Swats Jacob’s hand away, “yeah,” he quips, though there's little bite to it. “Let me just step away and find a hand towel in the middle of the mountains.” He’s wiping some of it off with his hands, but there’s nowhere to wipe his _hands._ He swears under his breath.

Really can’t decide if the cum, now steadily drying on his face, is hot or not.

“Here,” Jacob grunts, peeling his shirt off -- and _oh,_ that makes the faceful of cum worth it. Had expected some scarring, thanks to his arms but had never given much thought to just how _bad_ his chest would be. He bites back the questions forming on the tip of his tongue, focuses instead on committing his bare chest to memory, the way beads of sweat trail down his clavicle, chest, abdomen … 

Jacob folds his shirt, once, twice -- into a square, where he takes a corner of the cloth and swipes it across Staci’s face. Wipes the cum from his face with a steady hand until there’s none left. Until his face is cleaned of both sweat and cum. It’s an intimacy that leaves Staci feeling warm.

“There.” Jacob tucks some hair behind Staci’s ear. “Though,” he swipes his thumb across Staci’s lower lip, “Have to say, you’re prettier with cum on your face.” Draws him in for a kiss that’s far too brief … leaves Staci leaning forward, chasing more even as Jacob pulls back.

“See you at the finish line, peaches.” Gestures to his hair, uneven updo with strands falling loose around his face, “do somethin’ about that. Less you wanna tell your friend about our little get together ...” Winks before he’s turning on his heel and jogging down the trail, shirt bundled in his hand.

Staci can’t help but watch him go.

\--

The Sheriff is waiting for him when he gets back.

“Was getting worried for you, Pratt. Thought we’d have to send out a search party,” he laughs, hands on his hips. It's obvious he hasn't ran that sort of distance in a while, face reddened and sweat dripping down his face. Still, he looks happy. Turns to face a few kids as they run up to him, holding their grubby hands out and parroting a “thank you!” when they’re each given sheriff’s badges. Staci remembers being that age -- accepting a badge from the Sheriff of Hope County. Though he remembers Earl with far more hair.

Staci quirks a smile at the memory.

“Sorry. Had to uh,”

A hand clamps down onto Staci’s shoulder, “He was helping me, Sheriff. Took a back trail, thought we heard some hikers mention wolves and wanted to be sure the runners were safe.”

God, and Staci doesn’t even have to _look._ Would recognize that voice, anywhere.

“Mr. Seed,” the Sheriff tips his hat with a grin. “If anyone knows these mountains, it’s you. Beautiful place for a run, isn’t it?" He extends his hand. "Always a pleasure to have you.”

“Pleasure to be here,” Jacob chimes back, shaking the Sheriff’s hand with the same one he’d sucked Staci’s cum from. Pratt squirms. Shifts his weight from foot to foot. Has to look away and hope the burning of his face doesn’t give him away.

He’s still shirtless. Cotton shirt balled up in his opposite hand.

He looks elsewhere and desperately hopes Joey doesn’t see him like this.

She’s got a knack for sniffing out depravity, it seems.

“The hospital's thankful, you know. Had a few parents asking if there was anything they could do for you. Donation like that, these people wanna give back.”

Staci’s ears perk at that, listening curiously even as his eyes scan the crowds of people lingering with their dogs, children; enjoying the summer heat with a snow cone in their hands.

“Tell them there’s no need for all that. I gave what I could.”

“A four thousand dollar donation? Means a lot to a small town.”

Jacob seems to tense at his side. Staci’s not watching him but catches the change from the corner of his eye. He’s uncomfortable, and it’s a curious enough change in atmosphere that he has to glance his way. His face says little, though. The chuckle he gives is soft, almost self deprecatory, in a weird way that makes Staci’s lips twist.

He takes the change in atmosphere as his cue to leave, sets out to find Joey and hopes that his absence will be enough to placate whatever tension had befallen the conversation between the two men.

\-- 

When the Sheriff tells him that Jacob left shortly after their conversation, Staci tries not to look too disappointed. Attempts to pry some more information out of the Sheriff regarding the situation but the Sheriff just shrugs, hands crossed over his chest.

Says he’s a good man and leaves it at that.

Staci doesn’t suppose he knows much about him, either.

He wonders if there’s a reason he only really spots Jacob at these fundraising events, rarely around town.

That afternoon, after the tables and tents had been folded and put away, Staci returns to his car to find a note tucked beneath the windshield wiper. It’s a number, accompanied with a few chicken scrawled words. He doesn’t have to guess who it’s from, head swimming as he reads it.

_Your form needs work. Let a soldier show you how it’s done.  
P.S. Wear the shorts. -- JACOB_

Dizzily, Staci wonders if he means his running form or the deep throating technique.

He pulls his phone from his pocket. Figures there’s only one way to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> really had no idea how to end this lmao, but i hope y'all enjoy this dumb lil au !


End file.
